Flowers and Castles (A Destiel Howl's Moving Castle AU)
by pasmoicava
Summary: A hat shop owner (Castiel) is cursed by a witch after being mistaken for his brother who had rudely insulted her. After fleeing his home, he finds himself aboard a flying castle along with a powerful wizard (Dean), his apprentice (Sam), and a fire demon (Crowley). Castiel endures sass, kidnapping, copious amounts of rubbish, and quite a lot of yelling. (Based off book and movie)
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** This is mine. I am the original author reposting my fic because I some how messed up while trying to update the original. I am sorry for the inconvenience. I have deleted the original. This is exactly like the original only edited a bit more. I hope you enjoy.

CHAPTER 1

**In Which Gabriel is an O****utlandish Dick**

The day was sunny in the town of Market Chipping and the streets were busy with the start of the summer festival. The workers in the hat shop chattered amongst themselves as they hurriedly finished their work.  
"I hope there's roasted nuts again this year!"

"There are always roasted nuts!"

"Look! You can see that floating castle from the window."  
"Oh, I don't feel safe going out any more."  
"Don't worry, he only eats the hearts of pretty girls."  
They laughed as they packed their things away, returning a few stray hats back to the stands.

"Are you coming, Castiel?"  
Castiel looked up from his work and smiled at his employee from his small office. "You go on, Archie. I have some work I need to finish here." He looked down at the hat in his hands. He didn't like this new material much but he supposed it was adequate.  
Archie smiled softly and shook his head. "Hard at work as always. Sure you wont come celebrate with us?"

"Thank you, but my work is very important to me."

"Suit yourself. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that he went to join the others.

Once the workers had gone all the noises of excitement had went with them, leaving Castiel to himself. He had inherited the shop from his father while his brother, Gabriel, was sent to seek his fortune as a bakers apprentice. Since Castiel's inheritance, business started to become even more popular. Castiel didn't know exactly why this was, but even he could not deny that the quality of the hats had improved, particularly those he had a hand in making. Though, he insisted that he created the hats exactly as his father had.

As he carried on with his worked, he spoke quietly to the hat. No particular reason other than hats were often easier to talk to than people.  
"You're going to attract a lot of attention what with all these brilliant feathers." He said to the hat as he added a golden feather. "I bet you'll be the center of attention at any event you're worn to." He went on like this, adding decorations and speaking kind words to each hat, until the clock struck five. Castiel stretched and worked the kinks out of his neck before putting on his plain tan jacket. A shout from outside made Castiel glanced out the window and frown. He had promised Gabriel a visit but that would mean fighting his way through the crowds all the way across town. For a moment he considered not going. _'Dont be silly, Castiel.' _he thought to himself_. 'No good to just sit inside and waste away.' _Still, he always seemed out of place in a crowd. He considered himself in the mirror. Plain suit with a simple blue tie that some how always managed to hang backwards. But that was him. Plain, simple, and a little bit backwards. He wondered if adding a hat to his wardrobe would make an improvement but decided against it. How egotistical would he seem walking around with one of his own creations on top of his head?

Castiel locked up the shop and began his journey to the bakery. The town square was more crowded then ever and he found it impossible not to step on a few feet. His cries of "Excuse me!" and "Let me through!" went ignored and Castiel thought it best to save his breath. He resorted to simply shoving his way through which, other then causing him to trip a bit, seemed rather effective.

The shoving and tripping went on for quite a long while and he was almost to the bakery when someone went to take a step back just as Castiel was stepping forward. The culprit hardly noticed that his action had caused Castiel to fall forward and slam right into another man.

"Hey, watch it." The man said turning and putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder to steady him.

"Sorry. I was uh- . . ." The man, who was dressed in an impressive suit, was peering down at Castiel with the greenest eyes he had ever seen.

"You okay?" The man asked in a gruff voice and Castiel could smell the hint of alcohol on his breath.

Castiel stood straight and hastily fixed his jacket. "I apologize for running into you." He said, "I wasn't paying attention."

"You've got to be more careful." There was a slight slur in the man's voice that Castiel had missed before. "You're going to hurt that pretty face of yours if you don't watch out."

Castiel cocked his head in confusion. The man however, just smiled back."Yes, well," Castiel stammered. "I must be on my way." He made to leave but the man called after him.

"Would you like me to come with you? Stop you from stumbling all the way to where you are going?"

Castiel shook his head, "No. I believe that in your state the stumbling would only increase." This made the man laugh and Castiel began his fight through the crowd again.

A few minutes later Castiel had made his way to the bakery which was just as busy as the square. Castiel groaned at the thought of trying to find Gabriel in the mass but there was no turning back now. He marched up to the shop determined to get in and out as quickly as possible, which might have worked if he suddenly hadn't found himself suspended in the air by his coat collar.

"Unhand me." Castiel scowled in annoyance at the grinning face of his captive. _'First the drunk and now this. People just lose all sense when it comes to these festivals.'_

"Long time no see, brother!" The stranger laughed. He set Castiel back on the floor and wraped an arm around his shoulders.

"Who . . .? Gabriel?"

The disguised Gabriel grinned back at him and with ease, lead Castiel further into the shop. "You were always easy to fool, Castiel!" In the next instant Gabriel was standing in the strangers place. Those around them applauded the older brothers trick with glee. Gabriel bowed with pride while Castiel rolled his eyes with a sigh. _Should have known._

"Gabriel." Castiel said impatiently as Gabriel made a cake appear out of his sleeve. _He should have went into wizardry. _He thought to himself.

Gabriel turned. "Castiel." He mimicked Castiel's serious tone but was smiling cheekily, pleased with his prank.

"Could we go somewhere quieter?" Castiel asked hoping Gabriel would notice his discomfort. With a shrug Gabriel lead Castiel to the back storage room which was much quieter.

"You're looking pale, Castiel." Gabriel said offering him a cupcake. "Not getting out much, are you?" Flour and sugar covered the floor and dusted the selves of the storage room. The hum of activity from the front could still be heard but it was thankfully there was no one else around.

Castiel declined the cupcake and shrugged. "I have been working at the shop. It has become very popular recently. I must keep up with all of the orders and requests that are coming in."

"Yes, so I've heard." Gabriel said biting into the cupcake himself. "You always were good with a needle and thread. Who knew you'd be good enough to keep that old sweat shop going." He finished the cake, discarding the wrapper on the floor.

"Father gave me that shop, Gabriel. He expected me to take care of it." Castiel had told him this numerous times but Gabriel refused to listen. As the oldest, Gabriel was expected to seek and gain his fortune while Castiel, the youngest, was expected never to rise above his brother's success. Gabriel however, thought this was a rather backwards way to think.

Gabriel sighed. "You can't lock yourself up in dad's office and work yourself until you're a crippled old man with a bad back. That's not what Dad wanted. Do something for yourself, why don't you?"

"I didn't come here to fight, Gabriel." Castiel sighed

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Saint Castiel. Never wanting an argument." He muttered, turning and rearranging some of the spices on the shelves.

"There's no point in it." He explained. "What's done is done."

"Dad wanted the shop to go under." Gabriel snapped turning to look at his brother.

"What?"

Gabriel sighed like it was obvious. "Dad didn't give the shop to you because he wanted you to save it. He wanted it to go under! You were suppose to make sure it did with dignity, whatever that means."

"How was I suppose to know that?" Castiel asked a bit bewildered. "What did he expect me to do once it went under?"

"You still don't get it, do you?" Gabriel laughed shaking his head. "Dad wanted you to take the money and, how would you put it? 'Seek your fortune'." Gabriel rolled his eyes again like the whole conversation was ridiculous. "I don't know why you keep insisting that dad stuck you in that retired shop for the rest of your life."

Castiel didn't know how to process this. He clenched his hands into fists and looked at the floor as though it would give him an answer. "Why didn't Dad tell me this himself?" He muttered to himself.

"Come on, Castiel." Gabriel scoffed. He had started to write crude things on the flour covered shelves and Castiel could tell he was growing bored with the conversation. "You know how Dad was. He wanted you to figure it out yourself. It didn't occur to him that you were so incredibly thick." Gabriel dusted the flour off his hands and crossed his arms.

Castiel had nothing to say to this. What he wanted was to go back to his home above the hat shop and think things through. "I need to go." he muttered turning to leave. This was all too much for him to think about right then.

"Oh! One more thing, little brother." Gabriel said.

"What is it, Gabriel?" '_What now?'_ Castiel thought looking over his shoulder.

"I ran into a rather strange character the other day." Gabriel was looking right a Castiel, the way he did when he was being serious. Castiel had no choice but to turned around. "She didn't take too fondly to me." He continued with a small smirk. "None what so ever, in fact."

"What are you talking about, Gabriel?" Castiel was growing impatient.

"The Witch of the Waste, do you know of her?" He asked knowing that it would get Castiel's attention.

"Yes. What about her?"

"I may have accidentally insulted her."

Castiel stared at Gabriel. "You what?" Out of the most outlandish things his brother had ever done, this had to be the most thoughtless and irrational."Gabriel, how could you!?"

"She was really quite furious, too." Gabriel went on un-phased. "I couldn't help myself, I saw her and thought well why not have a bit of fun?"

Castiel stared at his mischievous brother. What had he gotten himself into, now. This was a dark magical being he had angered. Surly he knew there would be punishment?

"Oh and, I'm not too sure but, I may have looked like you when I did it."

"You-I-what?!" Castiel's stomach dropped and he was certain he would be sick. His brother had just thrown him into the fire and hadn't even had the decency to act ashamed. "Have you any idea what you have done!?" He roared.

Gabriel chuckled, "Toodles." And with that he disappeared.

Castiel turned and looked through the crowd but it was no use; Gabriel was disguised again. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. What was he suppose to do now? He had to make a decision about the shop and now a witch was after him. This friendly visit had certainly taken an unpleasant turn.

Once he had finally made it to his living quarters behind the shop, Castiel found it impossible to think straight. Instead of finding the calm he had expected, he found his room to be stuffy. Castiel opened a window and looked out at the sun began to set. '_What am I going to do?' _He had been asking himself that since he had left the bakery.

His father had wanted the hat shop to end but now that it was successful he couldn't just leave it. Could he? Now because of Gabriel he had a reason to just up and leave. It was only time before the witch found him and turned all of the success against him. Maybe he would leave. Just walk out the door and never look back. "No." Castiel muttered shacking his head. Leaving would do no good. The witch was inevitable, and powerful. Castiel paced as he thought. He thought until long after the sun had set but came up empty handed.

Thinking it would calm him or at least distract him, Castiel opened one of his books and tried to read. Unsurprisingly, it didn't work. Nor did the cooling mug of tea, or the half bottle of whiskey. He couldn't just sit here and do nothing. Castiel itched to do something about his situation. What he wanted to do was to go back and teach Gabriel a lesson but that never did any good._ 'Why does he find it entertaining to frustrate me!' _Castiel thought bitterly._ 'Why did he have to shift into me when he insulted the witch?' _He rubbed a hand across his face and looked around for something to do but there was nothing.

"No reason to stay in here then." Castiel went back to the shop deciding that he might as well get some work done. He gathered the finished hats from his office and began to distribute them around the shop.

"What a tacky shop." A voice said from the doorway.

Castiel stopped in his tracts and slowly turned around. A severe woman in a business suite stood in the door way looking extremely irritated. Something Castiel could relate to. He was in no mood to deal with a sour customer after hours, especially one who thought his father's shop was "tacky".

"We are closed for the night." He said. "You are going to have to leave now." It came out more rude than he had meant it to but he didn't care. He just wanted her to leave. "I believe you know your way to the door."

The woman turned her sharp eyes onto him. "Aren't you plucky. I would think that you would be more incline to hold your tongue in front of the Witch of the Waste after our last meeting."

"The Witch of the Waste? Wait, I can explain! That wasn't-" A sudden gust of wind blew through the shop and hit him full in the chest. Castiel dropped the hats and doubled over.

"There." The witch said sounding satisfied. "Maybe that will teach you to call someone a biddy old gargoyle." Castiel lowered his arms that were shielding his face. The witch was smiling and although he was certain that the wind had come from her direction, not a hair had fallen out of her tight bun. "Have a nice night." She purred and with that she left.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **I will be adding on to this chapter. It is only a preview. It's after 3am and I didn't want to leave you with nothing new. Enjoy

**AN:** The rest of this chapter has been added. Thank you for your patience.

**CHAPTER 2**

**In Which ****Castiel Finds a Castle**

"Well that was anti-climatic." Castiel groaned as he stood up straight, his back creaking as he did. "Strange. . ." He began to pick up the hats but stopped when he noticed his hands. "What?" They were knobby and spotted. Large veins had appeared on the back and wrinkles covered them. "This can not be!" He raced over to a mirror and peered into it. The face that looked back was not his own. Or rather it was an older, more gaunt wrinkled version of his own. Castiel gasped, "No!" He rubbed his eyes and looked back at the mirror but nothing had changed. "Oh no. . ." He started to pace with a slight limp, clenching and unclenching his hands as he did so. "This can not be." Castiel exclaimed again as he rechecked the mirror. The Witch of the Waste had turned him into a slightly crippled, old man. _'Look what you've done, Gabriel!'_ He thought. _'This should be you and not me.'_

Castiel studied his reflection and began to examine himself. He still had a good range of motion though, it was far more limited than it had been before. He was slower too, not that he had been incredibly fast in the first place. As the shock wore off a strange sense of calm replaced it.

"I suppose it could be worse." His voice sounded tremulous and gravelly. "At least now I have an excuse to leave. No one would believe this is me any way." Castiel looked out the window. It had grown very dark out and nobody went out alone at night on account of Wizard Dean and his moving castle. Wizard Dean was an malicious wizard who traveled around in a large castle that moved. Sometimes it could only be faintly seen out by the moors in the north. Sometimes it would sit by the rocks to the east. And other times it could be seen right in the heather, just beyond the last farm in the sorth. You could never predict where it would be from one moment to the next. As for Wizard Dean, it was said that he enjoyed collecting, or eating (depending on who you were talking to), the hearts of pretty women.

Castiel was no woman and, given his current state, he would doubt that Wizard Dean would think him very pretty. Even so, just the thought of trying to find his way in the dark made him feel suddenly very weary. '_No use leaving now I suppose.'_ He thought with a yawn. _'I'll leave at dawn before anyone can see me.'_ As he made his way slowly back up to his room, Castiel planed how he would go about making his exit. He would leave a note and instructions for his employees. Archie would be able to handle taking over in his stead and if the shop went under, then he supposed that Dad got his wish at long last.

Castiel's last thoughts as he settled into bed were where he would go. He had made his decision to leave so quickly that he hadn't even planed on a location. _'I'll worry about it in the morning I suppose.' _And with that he turned over and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Castiel woke as the sun's first rays of light poked over the horizon. His joints were stiff and his back was creaking worst then before. _'So this is what I am to expect every morning'._ Feeling as though he had sewn a thousand hats last night, he got out of bed and started to packed his things. He considered taking his books or maybe the hat he practiced new sewing designs on. "You're an old man now." He muttered "Better start acting like it." His joints were too unsteady to thread a needle any how, and he couldn't carry more then two small books in his pack. Leaving the books and the hat behind, Castiel made his way to the shop below.

He wrote a quick note of goodbye saying that had decided to go on vacation and wasn't sure when he would be back. Next, he made a detailed list of instructions for Archie and placed it on the desk in the office. Looking around he couldn't help but feel sentimental. The shop had been a part of his life since the day he had been born. As a child he would watch wide-eyed as his father made each decretive hat with care. Once his father had allowed him to try one on. It still sat on the corner shelf, in fact. A simple bowler cap made out of dark green wool that was soft as cotton. His father had never thought it was anything special and had put it off to the side to collect dust. Now, Castiel took it off its stand and placed it on his head. It made him look like a goofy old man. "Well that's what I am now." he shrugged "Might as well look the part." He posted the goodbye letter on the door of the office and let himself out through the back. It wouldn't be long before his employees would be arriving to an owner-less shop. _'They will be fine with out me.' _He smiled. "Don't worry about changing, old shop." Castiel said under his breath as he patted the door. "I have changed. No need for you to stay the same."

It was strange seeing the streets so empty after being so busy only a few hours ago. Stray cats cleaned themselves in the morning sunlight while street cleaners swept the remaining litter from the festival. A few waved as Castiel limped past and he tipped his hat in return.

After a while his back began to ache and he sat down on a bench to rest. He wasn't sure where he was going. Somewhere in the hills there had to be a wizard or witch that could turn him back. He ate some of the bread and cheese that he had packed and set off again. He had decided not to bother saying goodbye to Gabriel. Castiel was still upset with him, but he didn't want to say something that he would regret. Besides, Gabriel would only find humor in the situation and would make Castiel feel sorry for himself. He had considered writing a letter and thought better of it. How do you explain being turned into an old man and leaving the town you've known your whole life behind. It was best to allow Gabriel to find out through the town gossip instead.

By late afternoon, Castiel had climbed high in the hills. The wind had picked up and he was hobbling. He sat down on a stone and ate the rest of his bread and cheese. As Castiel rubbed his back he wished for a walking stick. Just when he got up to leave, he spied a stick stuck in a hedge "That would be suitable." He grasped the base of the stick and pulled but it did not budge. After about his third attempt he was about to give up. "Just because I'm old doesn't mean I'm weak." Castiel grunted and tried again. This time it came loose and Castiel stumbled over. Above him the stick stood straight up in the air. "You're a scarecrow." He gasped. The scarecrow was dressed in an old button down coat and a beat up old top hat. "Well no wonder you were stuck."Castiel said getting to his feet. "You're head is a turnip. I've never liked turnips." The scarecrow suddenly spun on the spot, slapping Castiel in the face. "Ow!" He rubbed his cheek and squinted at the scarecrow which was now bouncing around the hillside. "It would seem you're under a spell as well." Castiel shook his head and started up the hill again.

The scarecrow bounced along, following Castiel up the hill. Sometimes it would bounce far ahead of him only to turn and look back at the slow moving Castiel.

"You might as well move along if you are not going to help me." Castiel called over the gusting wind. It had grown colder since the sun had set, and night was fast approaching. Castiel was clutching his coat tightly around him as his teeth chattered. "What I would give for a warm fire." He moaned. Castiel's knobbly feet had began to ache something terrible and he was sounding more and more like a grumbly old man. The scarecrow started to bounce in circles around him. "Why don't you bounce off some place warmer?" The scarecrow was really starting to irk him and Castiel had had about enough. "I'm sure that turnip head of yours will freeze if you don't." The scarecrow paused and seemed to consider this until it went bouncing away, giving Castiel a slap to the back of his head as it went. "Good riddance." Castiel rubbed the back of his head and continued on his way.

It wasn't long however, and the scarecrow was back causing the now shivering Castiel to groan. "Why did you come back?" He questioned it. "I thought I had sent you away." The scarecrow answered in way of blocking Castiel from walking any farther. "I am going to have to ask you to move." He huffed, trying to step around it. The scarecrow blocked him again and refused to get out of the way. "If this is a new form of mocking me I-" That's when he heard it. Faintly at first, but it was quickly growing louder. A low rumbling bumping sound was coming closer and closer. Castiel looked around the turnip headed scarecrow. There on the horizon, big and impressive, was Wizard Dean's castle coming right towards him. Smoke blowing up into clouds behind it's black battlements made it all the more impressive as it came closer.

_'There must be a large fire inside.' _Castiel mused. _'Probably a lot warmer in there than it is out here.' _The scarecrow must have thought the same thing, for it began bouncing after the castle as it past. Castiel shrugged. "Why not? It isn't like I'm in danger of having my heart ripped out." He started to hobble after it as fast as he could waving his hands in the air. "Stop!" He commanded and the castle immediately slowed to a stop. Castiel found it strange but stowed the worry away for another time. Right now he had to focus on getting inside to the warmth. He followed the scarecrow towards the large black door and reached for the handle thinking of cushioned arm chairs and steaming cups of tea. Something was stopping him from grasping it though. Some strange invisible wall. With a sigh, Castiel made his way around the castle. _'If I can't go through the front door, I'll just go through the back door.'_

He found a smaller shabbier door around to the left but before he could reach it the castle started to float away again. "No you don't." He scrambled after it, the scarecrow bouncing along beside him. "The door!" He yelled at the scarecrow. "Open the door!" Astonishingly, the scarecrow did as he was told and opened the door. Castiel flung himself at the castle and was able to grab hold of the door frame. The castle started to gain speed, and Castiel was hopping and scrambling to get inside while the scarecrow bounced along behind him. Castiel could feel the warmth on his face and tried not to think about how this would look if someone happened to glance out the window.

With a sudden burst of strength, Castiel threw himself inside the castle landing in a heap on a rug. Behind him, the door slammed shut on the cold night air and the scarecrow. Groaning and trying to catch his breath, Castiel sat up. His back creaked in protest and he cursed under his breath. The fire in front of him gave him a great sense of comfort though, as did the low arm chair that sat right next to it. Eagerly, Castiel sank into it, letting the warmth of the fire wash over him.

"Hey!" a sharp voice interrupted Castiel's decent into comfort. He hardly batted an eye, he was so tired that he was half asleep.

"Hey, you!" The voice shouted. This time, Castiel opened his eyes. He blinked a few times before the speaker came into focus.

"The fire has eyes." He muttered, and indeed it did. From the open fireplace the flames were staring right back at him.

"The fire has a mouth too!" The flames spat back, shooting out embers.

Castiel was not impressed. "Are you speaking to me?" He asked.

This seemed to irate the flames even more. "Of course I'm talking to you! You're the only intruder in the room."

"Who are you?"

"Didn't you hear me? You're the one who broke into the castle, so I'll be asking the questions!"

"The castle stopped and the door was open." Castiel explained, wishing the fire would stop talking. He could hardly keep his eyes open.

The fire grew to its maximum capacity and turned white hot. "I am Crowley," it boomed "the all powerful fire demon!"

"A fire demon that lives inside a hearth?" Castiel had his eyes shut and did not see the scowl on the fires face.

"I am bound to it. This isn't my true form." Crowley grumbled. "Just as that isn't yours."

This caught Castiel's attention. "You can tell I am under a curse?"

"One of the strongest I've seen. Seems to be one of the Witch of the Waste's."

"It is." Castiel sighed. "Can you lift it?"

Crowley looked Castiel over before answering, "I will have to study it."

"For how long?"

"Tell you what." He replied "How about we strike a bargain. I'll break your spell if you can break the contract between Wizard Dean and I."

Castiel squinted his eyes, suspicious of the demon. "What contract?"

"Why do you think I'm bound to this hearth? I can't even step foot out side of it!" He whined. "Forced to sit here day after day. Maintain the castle, keep it moving, heat the bath water, do everything Wizard Dean wants. A demon can only take so much!"

"How awful for you." Castiel stifled a yawn.

"He's quite heartless, you know, Wizard Dean is."

"Alright. How do I break the contract? What are the terms?" Castiel wasn't sure if he could trust Crowley but his exhaustion was inhibiting his decisions.

Crowley grinned, "So we are agreed, then. You'll break my contract?"

"Only if you break the spell on me."

"A bargain is a bargain my friend." The demon crackled gleefully. "Now for the catch."

"What catch?"

"Unfortunately I can not reveal the main terms of the contract." He explained "You'll just have to stay here and figure it out for yourself."

Castiel shrugged, his eyes flickering shut. "I do not see how this is a problem. You have to study my spell as well."

"Yes. I suppose I do." Crowley replied. "But how am I suppose to explain a misplaced old man to Dean?"

Castiel didn't answer the fire demon, for he had fallen into a deep sleep and was snoring quietly.

Hours later, after Crowley had died down to small flames, the back door opened again only this time a tall figure with black feathered hands stepped slowly inside. Hearing the door shut, Crowley roused from the embers.

"Welcome back, Dean." He greeted the figure.

Wizard Dean made his way over to the hearth, the feathers slowly molting and melting away as they hit the floor. He paused at the arm chair, looking down at the sleeping Castiel. He had stopped snoring and his bowler cap had slid down to cover his face.

"I tried to tell him he couldn't stay, but he ignored me." Crowley explained to the wizard offering no explanation as to how a stranger came about falling asleep in the armchair.

With a feather free hand, Dean removed the cap.

"You're not going to let him stay," Crowley balance on the remaining wood, watching the wizard. "Are you?"

Dean's face softened at the sight of Castiel face. It was young again, but Dean could tell there was a powerful curse placed on him. He placed the cap on the arm of the chair and set about giving fresh wood to Crowley. Before retiring to his room, Dean covered Castiel with a thick woven blanket. Castiel he sighed softly and snuggled further down into the chair. Dean looked at him for a second longer before quietly climbing up the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thank you all for being patient. I tried to make this chapter a tad longer since I didn't post anything last month.

**CHAPTER 3**

**In Which Castiel Encounters Copious Amounts of Oddities and Filth**

When Castiel woke up he saw that the fire had died down to small flickering flames amongst white ash. Convinced that his conversation with the fire had been a product of his exhaustion, Castiel stretched. From his body came a series of sharp cracks from all over. He groaned and put his knobby hands to his face, feeling the deep waxy wrinkles. It was strange sort of development, but at that moment he didn't feel angry at all. Instead, he felt an enormous bout of frustration swell up inside him. _'That miserable Witch of the Waste!' _He thought bitterly. _'She of all people should know a simple disguise trick from the real person.'_ He had a few choice words he would like to say to her, however, his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a doorbell and Castiel quickly pretended to be asleep.

"Port Haven door!" A voice croaked from the fire place. Castiel peered through half closed lids and saw that the fire once again had a face. _'So it did happen.'_ he thought and quickly shut his eyes as the fire passed his gaze over him. The doorbell rang again and Crowley uttered an irritated sigh. "Oy, Moose! Get the blasted door!" Loud thumps came from above and suddenly there were hurried footsteps on the stairs.

"'Bout time!" Crowley grumbled as the doorbell rang impatiently once more. "That is the third time it has rung! I suggest you open it already."

"I know, alright! I got it." It was a man's voice. Castiel assumed it belonged to Wizard Dean. "Wait, who is he?" He was standing right behind the armchair. "How did he get in?" The doorbell rang for the fourth time.

"Port Haven door!" Crowley barked again.

There was a rustling of papers and a swoosh of a cloak. When the man spoke again, however, his sleep fogged voice had suddenly been replaced. "Stand by." He sounded more like a child rather than a man and a cranky child at that. Castiel heard a lock slide out of place and the whoosh of a door opening. "Mister Mayor, good day."

"Good afternoon. Would the Great Wizard Jenkins be at home?"

"I'm afraid that he is out at the moment."

Properly confused now, Castiel couldn't help but open his eyes. Looking around, he noticed that the room looked much different in the morning light. It was utterly filthy. The floor itself was in a hopeless state, covered by stains and grease. Spider webs droop from the beams, dust coated every surface that wasn't covered by dirty dishes, and there were piles of coffee stained parchments. The candles were merely nubs and wax coated their holders. The worst off were the books. They were strewn everywhere! Books piled by the hearth covered with soot and spread out on tables splattered with ink. Books laying face down on the rug and face up by the sink. Castiel was in shock by the entire séance. What shocked him the most, however, was through the open door. He didn't see the hills of the Waste where he had been picked up. Instead, there was a sunny town square behind the gentleman who was currently speaking to a small child wearing a cloak.

"An invitation from his Majesty the King." The gentleman was saying with great urgency.

Castiel didn't want to be accused of eavesdropping so he busy himself by placing wood in the hearth for Crowley who devoured it greedily.

"The time for war is upon us!" The gentleman exclaimed placing a thick envelop in the child's hand. "His majesty requires that every witch and wizard aid our homeland. Wizard Jenkins must report to the palace immediately!"

"I'll, uh, make sure that Wizard Jenkins receives this." The child said sounding rather unsure. He closed the door and slid the lock back into place. "Who are you?"

Castiel turned and looked at the child. But it wasn't a child any longer. A great lumbering man stood in front of the door, the cloak draped over his arm. It was quite clear why Crowley had referred to him as moose.

_'A magic cloak' _Castiel had heard of such things._ 'Wizard Howl wouldn't disguise himself as a child. So who is this?'_

"How did you get in here?"

"Crowley let me in." He stated rather unnerved that man towered over him.

"I did no such thing!" Crowley glared at Castiel. "He came banging in here from The Wastes like a bat out of hell! I had no choice in the matter."

"The Wastes?" Moose looked aghast. "Crowley, you can't just let someone in from the wastes! How do we know he's not one of the Witch's spies?"

"You really think I would let one of those ink globs in here?!" Their argument was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell and Crowley grumbled "Blasted Port Haven door again!"

"Must be a customer."

_'Customer?'_

Moose put the cloak back on, once more shrinking him to the size of a child. He walked down the steps and twisted the knob above the handle. The pinwheel next to the door spun around landing on the blue space. "Stand by." Moose opened the wooden door. "Yes? Can I help you?" A studious teen stood in the door way. His black hair had been carefully combed down and his collared shirt was button to the top.

"Oh, I um . . . Hi." He seemed surprised to see a child at the door. "Is the wizard home?" He asked voice cracking slightly. "My mom sent me to pick up a spell?"

"He isn't here but I can get it for you."

"Are you sure? I can wait until he comes back."

"There's no telling when he'll be back." Moose huffed. "I can get it, just tell me who's it for." Castiel could tell that this happened often and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Uh, Tran. The spell is for my mom, Linda."

Moose led the boy inside and started searching for the spell. Castiel wondered over to the window, still curious about how they had unnoticeably ended up in a town. "It's not The Wastes." He muttered to himself. Outside was a seaport town with gulls flying overhead and the sky was as clear as the sparkling sea. "I don't understand it."

"Excuse me, are you a wizard as well?" The teen croaked

Castiel turned and smiled at the uncomfortable teen and attempted to ease his worry. "No, I am not. I am a hatter."

"Do wizards need a lot of hats?"

"Oh yeah." Moose said looking more annoyed then ever. "Loads. They use them to hide their big heads."

"Wizards have big heads?" The teen obviously hadn't understood.

"Here!" Moose thrusted a small sack into the boy's hands. "Dust this on your ships sails." And with that, he practically shoved the teen out the door and locked it behind him. "Don't tell lies to our customers." Moose scolded Castiel with a look of contempt. Crowley snickered from the fire place as he dance amongst his new logs.

Castiel couldn't believe he was being scolded. He was practically 50 years older than Moose, or at least he currently looked it. "Who is telling lies? You are the one disguising yourself." He snapped.

Moose rolled his eyes and took off the cloak. "I wear it because I have too! We don't want people thinking there are two wizards living here. Besides," he said setting the cloak down on the cluttered table. "Dean likes to pretend he's the all knowing, all powerful wizard."

Castiel was hardly listening though, for as it was, he was an incredibly distracted old man. The knob above the door handle had caught his eye and he hobbled down the stairs to inspect it. He opened the door to see the seaport town a little bit closer. Salty air filled his nostrils causing him to sneeze. He stepped out and looked behind him. The castle had been transformed to look like a shop. Above the door hung a sign reading The Great Wizard Jenkins in hand painted letters. Castiel squinted his eyes rather puzzled about how Wizard Dean had achieved this. Inside everything looked the same and if he focused well enough he could feel the slight rocking of the castle moving. Shaking his head he closed the door and spun the knob around until it landed on the red space. Just as he was about to open it, a knock came from the other side.

"Kingsburry door!" Crowley growled. "Do I have to shout these out every damn time!"

"Out of the way Grandpa." Moose said throwing on the cloak and pushing Castiel to the side. He opened the door to a military looking man with a hat under one arm and an envelope in his hand.

"Good day. Would this be the residence of the Great Wizard Pendragon?" The military man asked.

"It is." Moose replied with a nod.

As they spoke, Castiel peered over Moose's head to stare at the background.

"I bare an invitation from his Majesty the King. Please inform Mister Pendragon that all witches and wizards are required to report for duty at the palace."

"Yeah, I'll inform him right away." Moose took the envelop and began to shut the door. Castiel stood in the way and stepped out to look at all of the glittering hustle and bustle around them. Steam powered cars rolled down the street and colorful brick towers with wavering flags reached towards the plane filled sky.

Castiel gasped. "This is the Royal City."

Moose rolled his eyes. "Stop wondering around, Grandpa!"

"I am not your grandfather." Castiel replied stepping back inside. "I have never had children."

Moose shook his head and climbed back up the stairs. "Whatever."

Castiel returned to his knob turning. The green space lead back to The Wastes and Castiel looked up to see the castle just as it was the first time he had saw it. He stood for a moment and looked out at the slowly moving view of the hills watching heather slide past and under the door. He listened to the rumble and grind of the moving castle. "This is a portal." Castiel decided and he shut the door once more. The yellow space opened up to a pokey yard filled with scrap iron. Castiel couldn't imagine why any one would need a door that would lead to such a dangerous looking place and he shut the door on it. The last space to try was the black space, but before he could try it Moose offered him breakfast. Finding that he was ravenous, Castiel accepted the offer.

Moose reached into a cupboard saying, "There's only bread and cheese until Dean get's back."

Castiel squinted at him. "You have an entire basket of eggs and a slab of bacon right next to it."

"Yeah, but Dean is the only one who can cook."

Castiel reached for the large black pan hanging on the wall. "I can cook." He said.

"It doesn't matter that you can cook. Crowley only listens to Dean."

"I think I can handle it." He gathering up the bacon and eggs and hobbled over to the hearth.

"I'm not cooking anything for you, old man." Crowley crackled. "You heard what Moose said, I only listen to Dean."

"I don't want any of your nonsense, Crowley." Castiel smiled plopping some bacon into the pan.

"I don't cook!"Crowley was raging now. "I'm a terrifying, powerful fire daemon and you can't make me!"

Castiel tilted his head to the side. "I thought we had a bargain." His voice was low so that only Crowley could hear. "Maybe I should let Dean in on it."

"Oh stupid me." Crowley muttered to himself. "I never should have let you in here!"

"So what will it be?" Castiel shoved the heavy pan over Crowley's leaping flames and forced them down into more manageable flares.

"May all your bacon burn." Crowley sulked.

In the background, Moose looked on in amazement. "How did you do that?" He asked walking over the stand next to Castiel. "What did you say to him?"

Castiel shrugged. "I have a way with persuading fire demons." He flipped the bacon over with a handy wooden spoon. "I think some tea would be nice. Do you have a kettle?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure." Moose went over to the sink to look while Crowley protested loudly.

The sizzling bacon drowned out the sound of the door opening and Castiel didn't notice until he heard Moose speaking to someone.

"Dean, listen man, I don't know where he came from. This old man was here when I woke up just sitting in the chair."

Castiel looked over and was stunned to see the drunken man that he had bumped into during the summer festival. Dean didn't look like an all powerful wizard then and certainly didn't look it now. His hair was disheveled and he looked absolutely worn out. Whatever he had been off doing had certainly taken it's toll on him. Underneath all that however, Castiel could sense something intimidating about him. Maybe it was the broad shoulders or the striking eyes, or perhaps it was the knife he was placing on a bench next to a small bird skull.

"It's alright, Sammy." Dean said clapping him on the shoulder. "I saw him when I came in last night. He's harmless! Aren't yeah, grandpa?" Dean gave Castiel a tired smile and walked over to him.

"I'm not your grandfather." He blurted. "Just an old man who needed a place to take refuge from the night."

"So you decided to make breakfast, huh?" Dean bent down to look at Crowley beneath the pan. "Well, you sure are being obedient."

"He bullied me into it!" Crowley grumbled

"Not just anyone can do that." Dean stood up and looked at Castiel. "Got a name, old man?"

"I am Castiel." He explained. "I am your new house keeper." Apparently his old age made him quite unafraid to lie, even to the powerful Wizard Dean.

"Who says we need a cleaning maid?" Dean asked.

"I do." Castiel shot back. "I can clean the dirt and grime off of these floors. They are dirtier than your blackened soul, Wizard Dean."

Dean raised an eyebrow at him and firmly shoved him to the side taking the pan out of Castiel's hand. Castiel stared at the red mark on his forearm and caught himself wondering how Dean had gotten it.

"Hate to break it to you, old timer." He said adding three more slices of bacon and six more eggs to the pan. "But we don't need no cleaning maid."

"You can take me on for a months trial if you'd like."

"Right, like I'd let some random wonderer from The Wastes become a squatter in my castle."

"You certainly didn't have a problem with my 'squatting' last night."

An awkward silence followed where Dean tried to stare him down but Castiel wasn't going to give up that easily.

"Uh, okay." Moose cleared his throat and stepped in between them. "Listen, Dean, you know maybe he has a point. This place could use some tidying up."

"Tidying up? Really, Sam?" Dean rolled his eyes. "It's fine, nothing some elbow grease can't fix."

As Moose tried to reason with him it occurred to Castiel that this man seemed to have quite a few names. '_It must be incredibly confusing for him.'_

"Dean, we are both either too busy or too tired to clean up after ourselves. Besides, you're the one who called him harmless. If you were suspicious of him last night, why didn't you throw him out?"

Castiel thought this was a rather good point. Why hadn't he thrown him out?

Dean apparently had no reply to this. He simply turned back to the eggs and bacon saying, "Fine. One month, but that's all. You can start by clearing off the table. Sam, get the plates."

Castiel smiled gratefully at Sam who gave a quick smile in return.

"By the way." Castiel said as he cleared three places at the table. "What name do I call you by?"

Sam, who was looking for a third plate under the sink, glanced over at him. "What?"

"Crowley calls you Moose but Dean calls you Sam and Sammy. I'm wondering which I should call you."

Dean laughed. "Call him Sammy-kins, he loves that. Right, Sammy-kins?" Dean took the pan off the fire and Crowley gave a great roar of relief.

"Shut up, Dean." Sam said looking displeased. "My name is Sam."

Sam finished setting the table and Dean served the food. They each only had a fork or spoon since the rest of the dishes were dirty. _"I certainly have my work cut out for me.' _As Castiel ate he pondered on where to start his cleaning duties. He decided that it was best to go from the top and end at the bottom. He tried to imagine how many floors the castle had and decided on ten with the possibility of more.

"I can't remember the last time we had a real breakfast." Sam said breaking the silence. "It's not often that we have time for it."

"Now that we've got ourselves a maid that shouldn't be a problem, right Cas?" Castiel scowled at being called a maid. It seemed that Dean hadn't completely forgotten their disagreement.

"The only ones who will get breakfast will be the ones present and on time." He replied. "Finish your breakfast. I wish to see the rest of the castle."

Dean gave Sam a look who shrugged and returned to his meal. "There ain't any more to be seeing." Dean said wiping his hands on his trousers.

Castiel wondered if he was joking. "What do you mean?"

Dean munched on a piece of bacon. "The only things up stairs are two bedrooms and a bathroom."

Castiel looked over at Sam who nodded. "Dean and Crowley disguised the outside to look like a castle." He explained. "The inside is just an old house in Port Haven."

"So, what I saw in The Wastes, it was a trick?"

"I've got a lot of tricks up my sleeves." Dean said with a wink. "Any way, what are we doing sitting around for? Don't you have some dusting to do?" Leaving his plate on the table, he stood up and headed towards the stairs. "I'm taking a shower. Crowley, heat up the water."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Don't I do enough around here?"

Castiel was beginning to regret agreeing to Crowley's bargain. He was already tiering of the wizards attitude. He shook his head and sighed. _'No use standing around and complaining.'_ He took off his jacket and laid it on the arm chair. _'Might as well get to work.'_


End file.
